


Birthday Boy

by Gwynne



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-15
Updated: 2011-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-14 19:11:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwynne/pseuds/Gwynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another Miles Vorkosigan dinner party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Boy

Ivan always hated family dinners.

“You’re all disgusting! I… I…. I’m appalled at all of you! This is a disgrace! Disgusting, you hear me!”

Normally anyone shouting abuse at a group that included Emperor Gregor would be arrested on the spot. But in this case the Emperor, Empress, Viceroy and Vicereine, two Auditors, a Count and Countess, an ex-head of Impsec, an assortment of high-ranking personnel and a table-full of others were all laughing too hard to do anything.

Ivan stalked out, a picture of wounded dignity. Family dinners were always a trial.

It had started out, as they all did, with the usual suspects assembling. A dinner at Vorkosigan House, with that amazing cook of Miles’s excelling herself, was always a treat. Technically this was Ivan’s birthday party, but really it was just a chance to get the whole family together, since by chance they all happened to be on the same planet at the same time.

Ivan growled at a passing armsman and stormed into the library, grabbing a bottle of wine as he went. He needed something to wash that appalling image out of his mind.

The guest list was enough to give Impsec massive heart failure. Aral and Cordelia were about to go back to Sergyar but Mark and Kareen had just arrived, so Miles and Ekaterin had the whole family in the one place at the one time for this special dinner. Miles was determined that this would go well, he didn’t have a great record with his dinner parties, although nothing had so far been as cataclysmic as his first disastrous proposal to Ekaterin. And, as Miles pointed out happily, that had all finished up just fine. Eventually.

Aral and Cordelia, Mark and Kareen, naturally. Nikki, feeling very grown up. Ivan – the birthday boy. Alys and Illyan, of course. And, being Miles, his guest list just kept growing. Gregor and Laisa. Kou and Drou. Olivia and Dono. Delia and Duv. Martya and Enrique. Dr and Professora Vorthys.

Just a small family dinner.

And it had all started so well. The food was, of course, magnificent. The company was congenial. They’d toasted the Empire, each other and, finally, Ivan. As the food had its usual effect they all relaxed even more until, led by Miles, they began to reminisce about the birthday boy.

“I remember the time we dug that tunnel…”

“Yes, that was one of the many times you nearly got me killed. I’m amazed I survived childhood, with you around.” Ivan was having a good time grousing at Miles.

“I remember when he stole that bottle of brandy, when he was seven…”

“It was Miles’s idea…”

“…when he tried to ride that horse backwards, for a bet…”

“Miles made the bet…”

“…when he got lost in those caves in the Dendarii Mountains…”

“Miles took me IN there!”

“…the time the municipal guards picked him up, naked, trying to run home at 2 in the morning. Apparently some husband got home early…”

Ivan tried for some dignity. He couldn’t blame that one on Miles, but he glared at him anyway, “I don’t think you should mention such matters in mixed company. You’ll embarrass the ladies.”

Cordelia, unusually for her, was pleasantly relaxed after a little more wine than usual and the lack of diplomatic obligations, “Oh but Ivan, I’ve seen your bare ass before. So has Drou, too. Although it was quite a while ago, now.”

Dignity was vanishing fast, but Ivan was prepared to try, “I realise you delivered me, Aunt Cordelia, but …”

“No.”

“…but I don’t…what?”

Cordelia gave him a grin that was remarkably like Miles, “No, dear boy, I didn’t deliver you.”

“Well, Drou then.”

“No, not her either.” She reached for some more wine. Aral thoughtfully moved her water glass a little closer to her hand.

Drou shook her head, “Not me. I didn’t know anything about babies at that time. I can’t believe I had two the old way, after seeing you being born. Thank goodness for replicators.”

Ivan tried not to look at Kou. “Fine, then Kou…”

Kou shook his head vigorously, “No, no not me. I donated the jacket you were born on. That was my total contribution.”

Ivan looked at Alys in confusion, “You’ve never told me the details, NOT that I want to know. Did you… by yourself?”

Alys, not a hair out of place, took a sip of wine, “Hardly, Ivan.”

Ivan looked around, bewildered. “But….” Then it hit him, “Oh no. No. NO. No way. It’s not possible.” He looked at his mother, “You’re … and he was… NO way…”

“Ivan, dear,” his fond parent gazed at him in exasperation, “It was an emergency. And I was very grateful that someone knew what to do. It wasn’t a moment to be choosy.”

“But… he was… he was … Bothari.” Ivan shuddered, “Bothari? I was delivered by…. It’s not possible!”

That’s when the giggling started around the table.

Ivan’s distress was growing, “He… Mother, when you told me about …all of that… you said Cordelia was there…”

“I didn’t think you wanted the details, dear.”

“Of course I didn’t! But… Bothari….” Ivan grabbed at his wineglass. “Stop laughing! This is – TOTALLY INAPPROPRIATE!” In the face of a further gale of familial hilarity, Ivan drained his glass and then stomped out, taking his injured dignity with him.

Ten minutes later the library door opened, and Miles shuffled in. He threw himself into his favourite chair and grabbed for the now half-empty bottle of wine.

Ivan glared at him, “If you’ve come to apologise, you can forget it. Bothari – HELL, Miles, I was delivered by a raving psychopath!”

Miles finished a healthy mouthful of wine and handed the bottle back, “I was raised by that psychopath, remember? Besides, I’m not here to apologise. This is the worst dinner party I’ve ever given.”

As he spoke the door opened again, and the rest of the male contingent hurried in, huddled together sheepishly. Ivan blinked blearily at them, “What….?”

Miles leaned back in his chair as half his guests spread out and pretended to be interested in the titles on the shelves. “Ivan… remind me to never NEVER let my mother have more than one glass of wine at a family dinner. She’s fine at big state occasions, but when she lets her hair down…”

“What’s she done? Does everyone still have a head?”

“Sadly, yes.”

“So…?”

“She’s… reminiscing. About the old days.”

“So…?” Ivan was still lost in the fog.

“Ivan… our family’s old days… some things are best forgotten.” There was a rumble of assent from various corners of the room.

“Such as?”

“She… you know how … Betan … she is at the best of times.”

“Sure, so?”

“And you got her thinking about Bothari. And…stuff from back then…”

“So what? What’s so awful that it can clear the room of men?”

“She… there’s a reason I don’t ask too many questions about the old days.”

“Miles…explain or I’ll….”

“Ivan… did you know that Bothari is the only man who saw both of our mothers naked?”

Ivan always hated family dinners.


End file.
